the waters broke over the weather side and soaked his scanty
habiliments. In a little time I had made up my mind that our last
hour was come; the wind was getting higher, the short dangerous
waves were more foamy, the boat was frequently on its beam, and the
water came over the lee side in torrents; but still the wild lad at
the helm held on laughing and chattering, and occasionally yelling
out part of the Miguelite air, "Quando el Rey chegou" the singing
of which in Lisbon is imprisonment.

The stream was against us, but the wind was in our favour, and we
sprang along at a wonderful rate, and I saw that our only chance of
escape was in speedily passing the farther bank of the Tagus where
the bight or bay at the extremity of which stands Aldea Gallega
commences, for we should not then have to battle with the waves of
the stream, which the adverse wind lashed into fury. It was the
will of the Almighty to permit us speedily to gain this shelter,
but not before the boat was nearly filled with water, and we were
all wet to the skin. At about seven o'clock in the evening we
reached Aldea Gallega, shivering with cold and in a most deplorable
plight.

Aldea Gallega, or the Galician Village (for the two words are
Spanish, and have that signification), it a place containing, I
should think, about four thousand inhabitants. It was pitchy dark
when we landed, but rockets soon began to fly about in all
directions, illuming the air far and wide. As we passed along the
dirty unpaved street which leads to the Largo, or square in which
the inn is situated, a horrible uproar of drums and voices assailed
our ears. On inquiring the cause of all this bustle, I was
informed that it was the eve of the Conception of the Virgin.